KOTOR: Republic Soldier
by Ceu Praca
Summary: An escape pod crashed onto the urban city of Taris, leaving decorated war hero Carth Onasi stranded, stuck with a scoundrel-turned-soldier, trying to find a missing Jedi before the Sith do. And the part of his mind that doesn't trust anyone knew that there was just something about Jon Antilles that seemed...off. **This is a oneshot for now, may expand into a full story later**LSM**


**A/N1: **In all my browsing for fanfictions about Carth Onasi, I noticed that nearly every story written with Carth has Reven as female, which, honestly, bugs me to no end. I don't mind female Revan in fanfictions, because in an RPG game, you can be whatever, but I'd like to see more fanfictions with Carth that don't revolve around nothing more than romance with fem!Revan. Besides, canonically, Revan is a guy with hair down to his shoulders, so that's what I stick with. :P

**A/N2: **On Revan's Wookieepedia page, then the first image of him on there is the image that I'm using for Revan's appearance. Fleet is actually Carth's real nickname; look it up, it's absolutely canonical. And the name "Jon Antilles" is what I always name Revan in the game; naming someone Jon Antilles is kind of the Star Wars equivalent of calling them "John Smith." It's like, the most common name in the galaxy.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Star Wars or Knight of the Old Republic. I sincerely wish that I did, though. :P

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**Part 1: Carth Onasi**

The Republic soldier, whose name Carth still didn't know, was sprawled out on a bed in the dingy Tarisian apartment. His breathing was shallow, his heartbeat slow, and he remained motionless. The veteran pilot had tried everything, from waving blaster oil under the man's nose to outright smacking him in the shoulder and ordering him to wake up, but the soldier never moved, blissfully unaware of the anxiety he was inflicting on his companion.

Every now and then, Carth would leave the apartment and poke around a bit, learning a little more about their current situation. He found out that there was a credit-hungry Twi'lek, Larrim, who would take any opportunity to sell his wares, and a kindly janitor who, though quite fussy, was more than willing to provide some information on the Sith and various locations that would be worth checking out later.

He'd need his companion to wake up before he could go anywhere, though; there was no way he'd get into the Undercity by himself. Carth sat on a battered footlocker, tinkering slowly with his custom blaster and glancing at the soldier every few minutes. The unconscious man had grown restless, shifting and murmuring unintelligibly, though he still didn't wake up.

Carth watched as the man's brow furrowed into a scowl, then he thrashed, lashing out mindlessly and screaming; the pilot quickly stood and ran to him, holding him firmly to the mattress by his shoulders, using his knee to pin the guy's legs to prevent kicking. The man still fought, then, gradually, he stilled, his eyes flickering.

Carth backed off, relieved when the man's eyes opened. The soldier sat up slowly, grimacing, reaching up to lightly touch the back of his head. Then his gaze met Carth's, and he got to his feet quicker than the veteran would have believed was possible, fists clenching as he dropped into a battle stance; even unarmed and ragged, the man looked intimidating, and the pilot knew that if it came down to a fistfight, he wouldn't be able to win.

"Who are you?" the man asked, his dark brown eyes slanting into suspicious glare.

The pilot was surprised; even though he should have been disoriented, the soldier's voice was low and smooth, with an underlying note of authority that he never would have expected from a low-ranking ensign. "I'm Carth Onasi, one of the Republic soldiers from the _Endar Spire_. Do you remember?"

The man's hostile expression vanished immediately, and he straightened, tilting his head in an informal bow. "Right, sorry; now I recognize you. Wasn't thinking clearly for a moment there. I'm Jon Antilles. Where are we?"

"We're on Taris; when the pod crashed, you were pretty banged up, but luckily, I wasn't seriously hurt. I managed to drag you away from the crash site before the Sith could come, and stumbled on this abandoned apartment."

Antilles rubbed the back of his head again, wincing. "I guess I owe you one, then. Thanks. How long have I been out?"

Carth shook his head. "You don't need to than me; I've never left a man behind, and I'm not about to start now. You've been unconscious for a couple of days now; it's good to have you awake instead of thrashing about in your sleep. I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to wake up."

Antilles cocked his head, frowning; his features were quite average and unremarkable, with shoulder-length, brown hair and odd, almost ritualistic scars on his forehead and cheeks. "I had a weird dream, like a vision or something."

"With that head-bashing you got, I imagine you must be having all sorts of weird dreams," he replied, giving the man a wry look. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. I heard from Bastila that you understand a remarkable number of alien languages. That's pretty rare in a raw recruit, but it should come in handy while we're stranded on a foreign world."

Antilles raised an eyebrow. "I've never even _seen_ Bastila before; how would she know that?"

Carth shrugged. "I would assume that it's in your service records. Do you feel up to walking?"

The soldier flexed his shoulders, looking thoughtful. "Yeah, I suppose so. I always did recover from stuff quickly. So we're stuck on a Sith-controlled planet, and…now what?"

"There's no way the Republic will be able to get anyone through that Sith blockade to help us," the pilot answered. "If we're going to find Bastila and get off this planet, we can't rely on anyone but ourselves."

Carth stared at him in disbelief. "That smack to your head did more damage than I thought. Bastila's a Jedi. She was with the strike team that killed Darth Revan, Malak's Sith master. Bastila is the key to the whole Republic war effort. The Sith must have found out she was on the _Endar Spire_ and set an ambush for us in this system. Bastila was on one of the escape pods that crashed down here on Taris. For the sake of the Republic, we have to find her."

Antilles looked like he was contemplating that, and began poking around the apartment, locating the footlocker and opening it to pull out a blaster pistol and a vibrosword. He eyed the two weapons for a moment before tucking the pistol into his belt and strapping the sword to his back. "How can one person, even a Jedi, be so important?"

"Bastila is no ordinary Jedi," Carth said, watching as the soldier sat down on the edge of the bed. "She has a rare gift the Jedi call Battle Meditation. Her power can influence entire armies. Through the Force, she can inspire her allies with confidence and make her enemies lose the will to fight. Often, that's all it takes to tip the balance in a fight."

Antilles scowled. "If she's so gifted, why didn't she help the _Endar Spire_ during the attack?"

"Of course, there are limits to what she can do," Carth admitted, frowning slightly. "From what I understand of her ability, it requires great concentration and focus to maintain her power. The attack on the _Endar Spire_ happened so fast she never had a chance to use her Battle Meditation. Like us, she barely got out alive."

"How do you even know Bastila's still alive?"

Carth sighed; he'd been afraid he'd get asked that. "I don't. But Bastila is young, and she has a powerful command of the Force. We survived the crash landing, so I'm willing to bet that she may have, too. Besides, what's the alternative? I mean, if she's dead, then no one can stop Malak and his Sith from wiping out the Republic. And I'd rather operate on the assumption that she survived."

Antilles stood again and took two steps forward to look directly into the pilot's eyes. "So what do you suggest we do next?"

Even though the question had been asked respectfully, there was something in the soldier's eyes that made Carth feel as if he was being challenged. "Many of Darth Malak's followers can use the dark side of the Force, and the Sith have already killed more than their share of Jedi in this war. She's going to have half the Sith fleet looking for her. They know how important she is to the war effort. The whole planet is under quarantine; no ships can land or take off, so if Bastila is going to escape from Taris, she's going to need our help, and we'll probably need hers."

Antilles nodded as if satisfied with that answer, that defiant gleam in his eyes fading. "Then we'll do our best to find her, but it'll be tricky, trying to get around without the Sith realizing we're here."

"Nobody will be looking for a couple of common soldiers. If we're careful, we can move about the planet without attracting notice; a luxury Bastila won't have."

"Right, Legendary-Decorated-War-Hero-Captain…_of course_ you're are a common soldier," Antilles responded with a smirk. "Any idea where we should start looking for Miss Meditation?"

Carth grunted. "Show some respect or I'll whack you one. While you were out, I did some scouting around. There are reports of a couple of escape pods crashing down into the Undercity. That's probably a good place to start."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"The Undercity is a dangerous place. We don't want to go in there unprepared. It won't do Bastila any good if we go and get ourselves killed."

"Mind if I ask you a question?"

Carth was momentarily startled by that. "I'll tell you whatever I can, though I don't know how much help it'll be."

Antilles looked abruptly serious. "I'd like to know more about you."

The veteran pilot just stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "I understand why you'd want to; I…I kinda get the feeling we'll be spending a lot of time together over the next while. But…this isn't really the best time for long introductions; we should stay focused on the task at hand. There'll be time for that later."

Antilles gave a quick smile and turned, taking a few paces toward the door. "Okay, I won't pry too much. The sooner we start looking, the sooner we find Bastila; let's go."

Carth almost said 'thank you,' but caught himself in time. "Good idea. We can use this apartment as a base, and can probably get some equipment and supplies here in the Upper City. Just remember to keep a low profile. I figure if we don't do anything stupid, we should be okay. Alright, soldier, let's move out."

Antilles grinned. "Anything stupid like calling me 'soldier?' It's Jon. And I'll call you Carth. You're not allowed to pull rank on a world where rank means less than a Gamorrean selling perfume. Although, with how famous you are, you should probably think of an alias."

The pilot glared at him. "You can call me Fleet if you're _that_ worried about my 'famous' status getting us caught."

"Oh? And where did that nickname come from?"

"Never you mind that. Shut up and get moving, Jon, before I leave you here."

"Touchy, eh?" the soldier laughed.

He opened the door and walked out, the disgruntled pilot following close behind. "Of all the men in the Republic that I could get stuck with…"


End file.
